My Violent Heart
by A Whisper Of Grace
Summary: The group has a plan to save Henry from Pan's camp, and Killian is confident after he finds out something important from Emma. During the rescue, things start to fall apart.


**AN: This kinda hurt a bit to write. And it took me a while, since it's been ages since I've written anything close to a physical fight scene. Some bits were unintended and just came out, but I think it turned out pretty well?**

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Around the campfire, toward the tree line, straight past him. Killian watched Emma pace restlessly, running her hands through her hair and then wringing her hands together, twisting her fingers in a way that was surely painful.

'You should try and rest, love.'

She gave him a quick glance but didn't slow her movements. 'I can't rest.'

He continued to watch her. 'You know that it's probably a trap,' he said slowly. 'You'll need your wits about you, we all will. Everyone else is sleeping,' he pointed out.

The glance turned into a quick glare. 'Then why aren't you sleeping?' she snapped.

It was an effort to keep the smile off his face, but he knew that she wouldn't appreciate his enjoyment of her anger. 'Because it's my watch, darling.'

She huffed out a sigh, still moving almost furiously. 'Then I'll take the watch, if your sleep is so damned important to you.'

He didn't say anything, but he didn't move away either. After a few minutes she finally came to a stop in front of him. 'I know it's probably a trap,' she said quietly, 'but what if he's there? Maybe we can still get to him, or at least I'll see that he's still alive.'

The angry determination that had guarded her face a few minutes ago had been replaced by such a profound helplessness that he didn't try to stop himself when his arms reached out for her. He still couldn't quite believe it when she let him pull her into his arms, wrapping her own around his back and pressing her forehead against his shoulder. 'He's alive, Emma. We'll get him back.'

She didn't say it, but he could almost hear her thoughts in the tightness of her grip around him. _But what if we don't?_ He wasn't used to seeing her vulnerable, even if she was only partially showing it to him. He gave her the time that she needed to calm herself. 'We'll get him back, Emma,' he promised.

After a few long minutes she pulled away from his embrace, but only moved half a step back from him. 'I'm sorry about what Neal said,' she said softly.

He almost smiled bitterly, darkly amused that this topic could be the safer one, before a purer anger started to slowly envelope him. He battled to keep his expression neutral, unsure of what she'd see in it if he didn't. 'It wasn't your fault, love,' he growled. 'He should be apologizing to you.'

He hadn't thought it could have been possible, but things had become even more strained than before when Neal appeared out of thin air, alive and well. He still wasn't entirely sure of the full history between him and Emma, but what he had figured out didn't exactly paint Baelfire in a good light. Neal hadn't appeared really surprised when Emma didn't welcome him back with open arms, but he did seem astounded that she wasn't going to at least give him a chance.

Killian was pretty sure that Emma hadn't told him, or anybody else, about the kisses they'd shared. Heated and desperate, Killian had been convinced that Emma had just been using him to relieve her frustration until she'd lost her temper at him, yelling at him that she didn't have time for feelings like this while she was focusing on Henry. A mixed message though it was, he took it for encouragement, and the two of them had settled into a bizarrely easy routine. They yelled at each other, they snapped at each other, but they were there for each other. He didn't attempt to hide the way he felt about her, and she seemed to appreciate how he knew when to give her space and when to push her.

He was sure Emma hadn't told him, but Neal appeared to have figured it out for himself. After leaving the others to set up camp, Killian had ventured away to refill their water skins. When he'd returned he'd heard raised voices and had rushed ahead - only to slow before the camp came into view, his heart sinking with the words that he heard.

_'Yeah, I bet you think it's a good plan. Hook's not the only one who's lived here before, and I think there's another way.'_

_'This is the plan we made before you arrived, and it's the one we're sticking with. What's your problem?'_

_'For fucks sake, Emma! I'm trying to find our son, and I'm doing a lot more about it than you seem to be!'_

_'What's that supposed to mean?'_

_'It means, Emma, that maybe you should stop fucking our enemy while we should be looking for Henry!'_

Killian had been rooted to the spot, but now he felt his blood run first cold and then hot, boiling, and he'd pushed his way violently through the remaining scrub. The camp came into view, Emma and Neal facing each other angrily on one side of the clearing while the others sat or stood awkwardly at the other, apparently trying to pretend that they weren't there. Killian had hesitated at the edge of the trees, the fierceness of Emma's expression making him pause.

_'How dare you! If it wasn't for him, none of us would be here! He's helping a damn lot more than you are.'_

_'And that's reason enough to let him get between your legs?'_

_SLAP!_

_Pause._

_'You gave up your chance to have any say in my life a long time ago, Neal.'_

_'Emma, come on. He's poison! He's the reason my family was torn apart, he's the reason my mother died. He'll tear out your heart and crush just like he did to hers.'_

_'I thought your father killed Milah.'_

How had she remembered Milah's name?

Baelfire's - Neal's - silence had spoken volumes. Emma had turned to stare wildly at Rumpelstiltskin, who had sat quietly on an upturned log throughout the whole exchange. Turning back to Neal, she'd stopped when she'd spotted him standing at the edge of the trees, looking confused. Her eyes had bore into him, surely seeing through into his soul. After a moment she'd looked back to Neal.

_'We're using this plan. We're going to get Henry back, and you're going to mind your own fucking business.'_

That had been hours ago, and now she was standing in front of him, looking up at him sadly.

Emma approached him slowly, closing the distance between them. He reminded himself that he was supposed to be comforting her, not the other way around, but Neal's accusations had bothered him more than he'd care to admit. 'Is that really what happened?' she asked carefully. 'He tore out her heart?'

Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes and turned his face away, not wanting her to see the tangle of emotions that he was sure he couldn't hide from her. 'Aye,' he said thickly.

There was a pause before he felt soft fingers touching his wrist, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his tattoo. Her hand closed around his forearm and he reluctantly looked up to meet her eyes. She studied him solemnly, her eyes sad. 'Will you tell me about it?' she asked him uncertainly.

Killian let his breath out slowly. He wanted to turn away, to run, but he was quickly learning that there was no running from her. From this. Not anymore. 'My crew had made port near the village where they lived,' he told her slowly. 'Milah, Rumpelstiltskin... Baelfire. We met in a tavern, and she asked me to take her away from her life. So I did, and we... we fell in love.' Gods, how he wanted to look away from the sadness in her eyes... and the understanding. 'He found us. Milah tried to make a deal with him for our freedom, but instead he -'

Haunted by the full ache of memory, he finally lowered his eyes. He knew that his voice had turned hard and cold, but he didn't have the strength to smooth it. He'd spoken to others about Milah's death before, and it had long ago turned from a sharp wound to a dull ache, but somehow she was making him feel like it had happened yesterday. Smothering his anger (pain) as best as he could, he clenched his jaw and his fist. 'He tore her heart from her chest and crushed it in front of our eyes.'

A warm hand brushed against his cheek, pressing up from under his chin to make him raise his head. 'It's not your fault that she died, Killian.'

The conviction in her eyes made something click within him, but he was starting to get used to the feeling. He'd spent so long chasing his vengeance that he'd become a shell of what he'd once been, sure that there was nothing left for him after the Crocodile's death. Every day Emma Swan increased his hope for something more.

She was still holding onto his arm. Pulling gently out of her grip, he took a hold of her upper arm, taking half a step closer to her. He just needed to touch her, to convince himself that she was really there, with him. 'I'm not letting Pan near you tomorrow,' he promised her softly. 'He knows how Milah died. And he knows everything that happens on this island. If he even suspects the way that I feel for you...'

He fell quiet, knowing that he'd probably pushed too far. Part of what had angered him most about Neal's outburst was that he'd insinuated Emma had put anything at all before finding Henry, when he'd readily accepted the fact that they'd wait until they found Henry before they sorted out this thing that was between them. To be honest, he was still incredulous that she'd actually returned his affection at all.

Instead of building her wall back up like he'd expected her to, she stayed where she was. Her brow crinkled in a slight frown. 'You think he'll try and take my heart?'

He pressed his eyes closed to try and block out the image of Milah on the deck of his ship, of Emma in her place, but it seemed branded into the backs of his eyelids.

One hand cupped his cheek, while the other pried his hand from her arm. He opened his eyes and watched her press his palm against her chest, his fingers splayed across her soft skin. 'Killian... Pan can't take my heart.'

He frowned down at her. 'If you haven't figured out that he's not an innocent little boy yet, love, I don't know what else can convince you. I've seen him do it before.'

Instead of the annoyance that he'd expected, a faint smile touched her lips. 'No, that's not what I mean. Pan can't take my heart because _my heart can't be taken._'

Feeling a confusing amount of emotion settling at the back of his throat, Killian tried to take a step back but Emma held him where he was. 'Emma, this is something far too dangerous just to assume.'

She stared up at him earnestly. 'I'm not assuming. Someone tried to take my heart and they couldn't.'

'Regina,' he growled. But he hadn't known her to fail at taking a heart before - only the untrained failed, and the Queen had definitely had a thorough education.

'No,' she said softly. 'Cora.'

_What?_ 'When?' His voice came out choked as he moved his hand from her chest to her cheek, angling her face up, desperate to read as much as he could from her eyes.

'When we fought at the portal, before we left the Enchanted Forest. After I knocked you out with the compass.' She started to smile, but must have seen something on his face, for it slipped. 'She was going for Mary Margaret but I pushed her out of the way and I ended up with her hand in my chest. She couldn't remove my heart. Gold said it was because I'm -'

Moving his hand to grip the back of her neck, Killian pulled her towards him roughly, cutting off her words as he pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her hard with all of the desperation that spiraled inside of him. She made a muffled sound of surprise before kissing him back, one hand squeezing his shoulder as the other fisted in his hair. Pulling her even closer, he wrapped his other arm around her waist, needing to feel no space between them.

Her heart couldn't be taken. If Cora couldn't take it, then nobody could. His own heart hadn't felt so unbearably full for such a long time and if he'd doubted it before, the intense relief that he felt now told him explicitly that he was in love with her. He'd never let her go, and he'd never have her ripped from him in the same horrific way that Milah had been.

He wasn't sure that she knew exactly what her revelation meant for him, but she seemed to understand just how much it meant. She gripped him as tightly as he held her, kissed him back just as hungrily, not seeming to mind when he accidentally bit her or their teeth clashed together. All of his control had left him, and all that was left was her. _And she'd be safe._

He didn't even realize that he was pushing her backwards until she stopped, and he felt bark on the back of his hand where he'd tangled it into her hair. He kissed her harder, using the tree as leverage to press his whole body against hers. Moaning quietly, she lifted her hips up against his, eliciting a low groan from him.

Starting to feel lightheaded, he pulled away reluctantly, gasping for breath, feeling a little proud that she was doing to same. She leaned her forehead against his and cupped his face with both hands. 'Killian,' she whispered breathlessly, and the way she said his name felt like a caress. She swallowed before speaking again. 'Killian, Neal was right. I can't focus on anything but Henry at the moment. Especially when we're so close to finding him.'

Taking another deep, shuddering breath, Killian took a careful step back, reluctantly creating some distance between them, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of her entirely. Running his fingers across her cheek, he slowly trailed them across her neck and over her shoulder, down her arm, taking her hand in his. He delighted in the way that she shivered at his touch, but it did nothing to calm his suddenly aching body. She looked apprehensive until he squeezed her hand gently. 'I wouldn't expect anything else, love.'

Her face smoothed out into a grateful smile. 'But when we get home...'

Smirking at her, he raised her hand to his lips, brushing them softly against her knuckles. 'I'll be waiting.'

With her one hand holding onto his tightly, she brought the other around his neck and stepped closer to him again, kissing him slowly. Their mouths moved together in complete synchronization, and Killian felt his heart swell from the pure rightness of it. It was the exact opposite of their previous kiss, but it held just as much passion. It was perfect, it was tender. It was a promise.

He broke the kiss before they reached the point of no return, his body already filled with too much need as it was. 'Get some sleep, darling,' he told her. 'Tomorrow will still be dangerous. I'll wake you in a few hours.'

He watched her head to her blankets, unable to keep the small smile from his lips.

* * *

For every Lost Boy that fell, another appeared in front of him.

An behind him.

Beside him.

Hell, one even came jumping down upon him from a nearby tree, nearly knocking him to his feet. He never hesitated, never stopped for breath, putting every effort into staying alive and felling as many boys as he could. He knew that some of the others were trying not to give fatal wounds, but he knew better than to waste his energy in trying to spare their lives. They may look like children, but some of them were even older than he was. Some he recognized, but most he didn't; it seemed Pan had kept growing his numbers after he left.

There were more boys in the camp than they'd anticipated, but he didn't let himself worry about what anybody else was doing. The only person that he could see was Baelfire, who fought right beside him on his left, but he couldn't pay him any attention. The only thing that he let himself think about, aside from the current boy in front of him, was Henry. And Pan.

But Pan was nowhere to be found. The fighting was hard, the Lost Boys were being slaughtered, and their leader had yet to show his face.

'Killian!'

The cry came just as he kicked his current opponent away from him and he looked up, catching Emma's eyes from across the clearing immediately. She fought with her back up against a tree, trying to ward off two boys at once. _Gods, woman, haven't I taught you anything?_ He took a step toward her as she ducked under an attacking blade.

'No, behind you!' she yelled, and the desperation in her voice made him turn instantly. He raised his sword as he ducked, prepared for whoever was coming at him, but there was no one there. At first he couldn't see what she had warned him against and in the short time that he hesitated another boy was before him, this one with a spear. Just as he drove his sword through his heart, he saw why Emma had called out to him.

Henry.

Killian only saw his face for a brief second before he jumped behind a fallen log, but he recognized him at once. Pushing aside the Lost Boy, he ran the few metres to the edge of the clearing. Several arrows flew at him but he dodged them without thought, unwilling to let the lad out of his sight.

Pivoting over the log, he knelt by Henry quickly. He was bound with a thick rope at his wrists and ankles, but held a small knife in one hand, trying to twist it back to cut the rope. Killian didn't let himself dwell on the blood that covered the blade, or what the lad would have had to do to rid himself of his guards.

Mostly children went to Neverland, but no one left with their innocence intact.

Dropping his sword, he took the knife from Henry and quickly sliced through the ropes first at his wrists and then his ankles. Offering the knife back to Henry hilt first, he picked up his sword, glancing up quickly to check their surroundings. The fight raged on, but no one had seemed to notice them yet. He used his hook under Henry's chin to tilt his face up, giving him a quick once over. He grimaced when he realized that his hook was as bloody as Henry's knife, but didn't withdraw it. 'Are you all right, lad?' he asked lowly.

Henry's eyes were full of fear but he held his gaze steadily, and Killian was momentarily blown away by the bravery that he found there. Emma's son. Baelfire's son. Milah's grandchild. No wonder he was brave. 'I'm fine, Captain.'

Adjusting his grip on his sword, he looked away from the boy, trying to clear his head and find Regina in the mess of people before him. The plan was for the Queen to magically transfer herself and Henry to their camp and for the rest of them to retreat when they could. He couldn't see her anywhere, and it wouldn't be long before the Lost Boys realized that Henry was missing, or Pan showed up.

He was about ready to just grab the lad and make a run for it when he saw someone approaching him quickly out of the corner of his eye. Wrapping his left arm around Henry's shoulders and holding him hard against him, he raised his sword in front of him, not lowering it when he saw that it was Rumpelstiltskin. The Crocodile held both hands up in front of him, palms facing outward in a gesture that would have been reassuring if it had been anybody else. 'Let me take him,' he said, reaching his hand out toward Henry.

Filled with indecision and the panic that it was starting to induce, Killian held his stance, his eyes flickering back and forth between the man before him and the people fighting nearby, trying to find Regina but unwilling to take his eyes off of Rumpelstiltskin. The Queen was still nowhere that he could see, and he didn't dare risk calling out for her and drawing attention to them - it was a miracle that none of the Lost Boys had come for them yet, and it wouldn't be long before one of them noticed that he had Henry. _Get in, grab Henry, get out_, that was supposed to be the plan. But where the hell was Regina?

'We don't have time for this, Hook,' Rumpelstiltskin warned, with only a fraction of the normal scorn in his voice as he spoke his name.

He knew that, _damn it_, and he knew that every wasted moment decreased the likelihood of getting the boy to safety. Still he hesitated. 'I won't let you harm him,' he said, his voice hoarser than he'd intended as he tightened his grip on Henry. The lad was still at his side, frozen, and he briefly wondered at the fact that he hadn't fought his way away from him yet. As far as he knew, his grandfather was here to save him, and Captain Hook was supposed to be the villain.

Rumpelstiltskin took a slow step toward him. 'I wouldn't -'

'No!' The hesitance was gone - he wasn't letting the _Crocodile_ anywhere near Henry. 'You've said that you've disregarded the prophecy, that you've no care that he'll be your undoing, but _I know you, Crocodile!_ You killed Milah because she didn't love you, and you abandoned your son for your dark magic. You won't leave the lad alive when he will be your death!'

He'd almost thought that he'd been done with his vengeance, but in that moment he wanted nothing more than to bury his hook in Rumpelstiltskin's neck and be done with him for good. The only thing that stopped him was the quivering boy at his side, the product of everything that had once meant something to him and been taken away, and the person who might mean his future.

Rumpelstiltskin stared back at him helplessly. 'I'll not hurt my own grandson,' he said almost pleadingly, looking down at Henry.

'No, because I'm going with you.' Baelfire - Neal - appeared halfway between them, and although he spoke to his father, his eyes were on Killian. 'Regina's stuck on the other side of the clearing fighting off a dozen boys. She's the reason that we're not overrun at the moment, but you can't wait for her any longer. I have to get him out of here.'

Killian lowered his sword but only slightly. 'I'll go,' he said quickly.

'And when the two of you kill each other, who will protect Henry then?'

'Baelfire -'

'Damn it, Hook, just let me protect my son!'

It wasn't anger on Neal's face but desperation, and although he knew that nobody could stop Rumpelstiltskin if he truly wanted to harm Henry, he also knew that Neal would do whatever it took to protect his son. His decision was forced anyway when he saw that their argument had finally attracted the attention of the closest Lost Boys. Swallowing hard, he pushed Henry toward Neal, moving past them to block an attacking sword. 'Go. _Go!'_

He vaguely saw Henry falling into Neal's arms as a puff of purple smoke enveloped them, and then his full attention was on the boy in front of him. He fought viciously, all sense of skill forgotten as he swung his sword at whatever he could reach, not caring to focus on one boy at a time and letting himself rely on three hundred years of instincts to defend himself rather than putting active thought into it. He put all of his frustration and bitterness into his blows, trying to work off the anger he felt at himself for letting Rumpelstiltskin go.

And for letting himself be distracted with his vengeance when he should have been saving Henry.

He couldn't have let Rumpelstiltskin take the boy alone, but he'd be safe with Neal. _I hope._

After a few minutes the steady action and fluidity of the fight calmed him somewhat, and he let himself get lost in the movements, attacking and parrying automatically. His ears rang loudly and sweat dripped down his back. He had no idea how much time passed before he glanced around and saw that the clearing held only perhaps a dozen more boys; most of them had probably retreated once Henry had escaped.

His eyes fell on Emma on the other side of the clearing, and he felt his stomach clench when he realized that it was Felix who she fought. His attacks were slow and lazy, and Killian could see that Emma was putting all of her effort into defending them. She was tired, and he was playing with her. Swallowing a growl, he started toward them.

He'd barely made two steps when someone appeared out of nowhere in front of him - _Pan._ He stood with his arms crossed casually over his chest, causing Killian to stop in his tracks. 'I was wondering when you'd show up.'

The demon scowled at him. 'It appears you've made quite a dent in my Lost Boys, Captain,' he said. His voice was as calm as ever, but Killian could see the open anger in his eyes.

It was a lot harder than it should have been to keep his eyes on Pan, but he knew that if he looked away his gaze would have been immediately searching for Emma, and he wouldn't risk setting Pan on her too. 'It's been a long time coming,' he snarled, darting forward.

There was a sword in Pan's hand suddenly, and Killian didn't bother to give thought to the fact that there hadn't been before. Pan blocked his strike easily, leaning forward to look at him over their joined swords. 'Do you really think you can kill me with a blade?' Pan sneered. 'Do we really not know each other at all?'

_Perhaps not._ As much as he'd have loved to lop the demon's head off, all he needed for the moment was a distraction. Surely, someone else would soon be free to help Emma, and he knew more than anything that he needed to keep Pan's attention away from her. Even if he knew nothing of the strength of Killian's feelings for her, Killian knew that he had some sick sort of fascination with her.

'Even demons can be killed.' Pushing Pan away from him, he spun and attacked, keeping his movements steady enough to save energy but violent enough that Pan wouldn't suspect him.

Pan laughed openly. 'Oh, dear Captain. The last person you said that to isn't any worse for wear, is he? Rather, he's a lot safer than you are at the moment. Although I don't understand why you'd let him take Henry away when you know he's going to kill him.'

Doubts swirled in him for half a second too long. Pan saw him falter and attacked quickly, darting forward and slicing him along his side. Clenching his teeth together and letting out a hiss, Killian jerked away, slapping his blade away with his own, pressing his left forearm against his side.

'Come on, Hook. You're better than that.' The smirk on his face made Killian want to tear it off, and he redoubled his efforts, putting all of his focus into fighting Pan. It became a mixture of distraction and a real attempt to actually kill him, as stupid as that thought was. But Pan was too fast, and fresh to the fight, while Killian had been fighting for what felt like hours. How long since Henry had gotten away? How long had he fought Pan for?

Pan had struck him twice more, slicing his arm and his cheek, only just missing his eye, and before long he tasted blood mixed with the sweat on his face. And he never stopped talking, taunting him over his inability to kill Rumpelstiltskin, to save or avenge Milah.

'You never should have come back here, pirate. Do you think you'll get away even if I let you live? It was a fool move, and stupid to come after a boy you don't even know. Is it because he's Milah's grandson? Saving him won't bring her back, and it won't ease your guilt that she'd dead because she ran away with you. Was it for Baelfire, perhaps? Baelfire's all grown up now, and Neal has a family of his own - he doesn't need you. But he didn't even want you when he was a boy, did he? If he couldn't forgive you for tearing apart his family all those years ago then he won't now, certainly not after you've spent so much time trying to kill his father.

'Unless it's not just for Henry's paternal linage that you're wanting to protect him.'

Despite all of his efforts, Killian glanced away quickly to look at Emma. Felix's dagger had disappeared and he now fought only with his club, which Emma seemed to find easier to manage since she looked to be holding her own a little better now. Looking back to Pan, he was unsurprised to see the satisfied smirk in place. 'You think she's your happy ending, don't you? Your true love.' He laughed again. 'I can't wait for you to find out just how wrong you are. You don't deserve a happy ending, _Captain Hook._'

Killian charged at him again, but Pan was quicker. Using his own momentum against him, he blocked his sword and grabbed his arm, digging his fingers into the open wound that he'd inflicted. As pain flared through his arm he dropped his sword, and Pan used his surprise to get close to him, punching him in the stomach with the hilt of his sword and kicking him to the ground.

His breath left him with a grunt as he hit the ground, his head flying back to crash against the hard dirt. His thoughts left him for a second and when they came back to him he found Pan standing above him, one boot pressing hard against his chest and the tip of his sword pressed against the underside of his jaw. As he sucked in a breath he felt the blade break the skin, and he struggled to get his breathing under control. Every single part of his body ached, but it was most present where Pan's sword had cut him. He could tell his shirt was soaked but he didn't know whether it was from blood or sweat.

Pan stared down at him, eyebrow raised and smirk ever-present. 'I can't let you kill me yet, Captain,' he said, pressing the sword more firmly against his neck. Then the pressure was gone, along with the sword, along with Pan, and Killian sucked in a deep breath, desperate for the air that filled his lungs. The thought that Pan had left and would let them get away - for today, at least - had barely crossed his mind when he dismissed it, pushing it away violently as he struggled to sit up, trying to ignore the pain. No. _No. _He was there, standing right behind Emma where she fought Felix. Glancing up at his leader, Felix's face broke out in a grin as he moved quickly, knocking Emma's sword from her hand and grabbing her shoulders, spinning her around to face Pan.

'We haven't finished our game.'

Killian watched in horror as Pan reached out, plunging his hand into Emma's chest.

He scrambled to his feet, falling over twice in his haste to get up, as Pan withdrew his hand, holding the bright red organ in his grip.

He couldn't breathe at the look of horror on Emma's face as she realized that Pan had taken her heart.

Someone was screaming. Was it her? Was it him?

He fumbled with his sword, picking it up and running toward them, his feet sliding in the dirt and slowing him down.

Pan looked straight at him as he squeezed slightly. Felix let Emma go and she clutched her chest, crying out, panic mixed with pain.

He looked straight at him as he clenched his hand fully, crushing her heart to dust in his fist.

Time slowed down as Emma fell to the ground, a sharp cry coming from her until it wasn't, her breathing loud and erratic until it wasn't. All of the energy that had left him minutes before was his again and he charged toward Pan. He vaguely heard the roar that he was pretty sure had come from him, and the cries of pain around him as others realized what had happened, but he pushed it all aside as the frenzy took him. Blood pumped loudly in his ears until it was all he could hear and he swung his sword at Pan violently. Pan responded quickly, blocking his attack.

Ashes still fell from his hand.

He kept advancing, pushing Pan backwards. Pan was barely keeping up, barely blocking each strike, worry starting to crease his features. There was no finesse, no tactics, just anger, just _rage_. Catching his hook around Pan's blade, he twisted it, bending Pan's arm back until he dropped the sword, then he plunged his own sword forward. The sword pierced his chest and kept going, running him through to the hilt, Pan's body lifting off the ground with the force of the thrust. Pan let out a grunt, surprise on his face. He started to slump, a gurgling sound coming from his mouth, before he disappeared.

Killian lowered his sword, staring at the thick blood on the blade, then dropped it.

He started shaking as his mind registered the sounds coming from behind him. Loud sobs filled the air, harsh cries that could only have come from Mary Margaret, and quieter, but no less desperate pleas from David. _At least the Lost Boys had gone,_ he thought dimly. Turning, he staggered slowly over to where the two of them kneeled over a body - _oh gods, Emma, no, no, no _- that lay on the ground. She'd landed on her side when she'd fallen but they'd pushed her onto her back, and her parents knelt on either side of her, Snow's face pressed against Emma's chest as though to hear the heart that no longer beat there.

Neither of them looked up as he fell to his knees beside her head next to David. Something inside of him broke as he made himself look down at her properly, his throat so tight that he could barely breathe as he took in her pale skin, her face frozen in fear. _Why do I deserve to breathe if she can't?_ He didn't realize he was trembling until he reached out and brushed his fingers across her skin.

'Heal her.' Moving slowly, as if in a dream, Killian looked up and saw David's tear-streaked face looking up over Mary Margaret's shoulder. He followed his gaze and saw Regina standing there, her expression sad and torn. 'Regina, heal her,' David said hoarsely.

Regina took a hesitant step forward, then spread her hands. 'I can't,' she said, her voice quivering. 'Magic can't bring back the dead. Especially not if her heart was...' She broke off, glancing at Killian.

He looked away, not able to bear the pity that he'd seen in her eyes. Lifting Emma's head slightly, he settled it on his lap, running his fingers across her cheeks, her closed eyes, her forehead. He tried to smooth her frightened expression, but the calm, neutral appearance that was the result hammered at his heart just as badly.

Reaching down her body, he wrapped his fingers around her hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing them against her palm, pressing her palm to his cheek. Her skin was already starting to feel cold.

He felt broken. He felt hollow.

He'd spent so long mourning one woman, and Emma had only just begun to heal him. Who could heal him from this?

_Emma was dead._

He felt a sting at the cut on his cheek and realized he was crying, but made no effort to wipe the tears away. Settling her hand on her chest, he moved his to brush the hair back from her face. Leaning forward, pressed his lips against hers so gently it felt like a whisper, cupping her cheek and then running his hand through her hair. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead against hers, trying but unable to stop shaking.

'I saved him, Emma,' he breathed against her skin, a whisper all he could manage. 'I saved Henry for you. Baelfire has him now. I wish you could have known that before...' _before you died._ 'There's so many things I should have told you. We shouldn't have waited, I know finding Henry was the most important thing, but you should have known you were loved. You should have known how much I love you.'

His voice broke and sobs took him. He pressed his lips to her skin, kissing every part of her face that he could, needing her to somehow know just how loved she was. 'You told me this couldn't happen,' he mumbled against her forehead, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling more tears fall into her hair. 'How could he take your heart if Cora couldn't?'

'Pan has a magic none of us were prepared for,' Regina said softly from somewhere nearby.

'Is he dead?' David asked from beside him.

Breathing in deeply through his nose, he wished he could take in more of her scent but it was mostly blocked out by the smell of sweat and blood. He leaned back but didn't stop touching her face with his hand, couldn't stop looking at her. 'Yes, he's dead,' he said dully.

The sounds of sobbing had stopped, and there was silence for a few seconds.

'Good.'

Finally tearing his eyes away from Emma, he looked across her to where Mary Margaret knelt on her other side. It wasn't Mary Margaret who stared back, or even Snow White. This woman was as hollow, as empty as he felt, the only emotion left a pain so intense that it blocked out any chance of any other feeling. He wondered if he looked the same to her.

'I don't have enough magic left to take us to the camp,' Regina said, and Killian and Mary Margaret finally looked away from each other, Mary Margaret looking to Regina and Killian lowering his eyes back to Emma. 'But we need to get her back to Henry.'

Oh, no. _Henry._

'I'll carry her,' he said quickly, lifting her head slightly to slip his legs out from underneath her. The pain in his side twinged as he stood up but he disregarded it, bending down to pick her up. The others didn't question him and stood back as he slid his left arm underneath her knees and his right under her back, lifting her and settling her against his chest. Her head lolled lifelessly against his shoulder and he had to blink away tears.

They kept flowing all through the trek to the camp, and he stumbled a few times, almost dropping Emma from the combination of his blurred vision and the pain flaring in his side and his arm. After an hour David stopped him. 'Let me take her,' he offered quietly.

'No,' he answered immediately, tightening his grip around her and then wincing at the spasm in his arm.

Noticing the blood on his sleeve, David cursed and tore the material, revealing the blood that flowed slowly from the open wound. 'Damn it, Hook. Where else?'

'It doesn't matter -'

'Where else?'

'_It doesn't matter!_' Killian wanted to shake him off but didn't want to shake Emma about more than he had to. 'None of it matters, don't you see that? I just need to get her to Henry.'

He expected an angry comment about letting him look after his daughter, but David just stared back at him, his face filled with pure sadness. 'You really did love her, didn't you?'

His throat constricted again, his chest, all of him. 'I do love her.'

David kept looking at him for a few seconds, then nodded. They started walking to catch up with the others, and David put his hand on his back, squeezing his shoulder gently, leaving his hand there as they walked.

Killian's head was starting to swim by the time they reached the clearing. Regina and Mary Margaret walked slightly ahead of them, and as they entered the campsite the first thing he heard was Henry's overjoyed cry as he ran into Regina's arms. The Queen wrapped her arms around him tightly and turned slightly so that Henry's back was to the rest of them as Killian staggered a few more steps before falling to his knees. Settling Emma's body on the ground as carefully as he could, he gripped her cold hand in his own, wishing he had the strength to face her son.

'Henry, there's something you have to know,' he heard Regina say quietly.

'What happened?' A few seconds later Henry was kneeling by his side, looking down at his mother in confusion. Killian looked up and met David's eyes where he stood a few metres away, his arms around a quietly crying Mary Margaret.

'It's too late, Henry,' David said gently.

Henry was shaking his head. Neal came to stand behind him, staring down at Emma in shock. 'Mom, heal her! Why haven't you done it already?'

Regina appeared on Henry's other side, putting a hand on his shoulder. 'I can't heal death, Henry.'

The look of utter astonishment on Henry's face broke Killian's heart anew, and he couldn't watch him anymore. Looking at Emma hurt more, but he needed to memorize every inch of her face while he still could. 'She's not dead,' Henry said, his voice full of confusion.

'Pan killed her, lad,' Killian managed, wishing he had some feeling left to put into his words, that he didn't sound so wretched. 'We saw it.'

Silence for a few seconds, until Killian looked up at met Henry's gaze. He looked so damned bewildered, but after a moment his expression firmed. 'Well I can see her now. And I can see that she's breathing.'

'He tore her heart out and crushed it.' _Because of me. _'There's no surviving that.' He heard Neal cursing but couldn't look at him, knowing what kind of pain and understanding he'd find there.

_I barely survived this the first time..._

But Henry's expression only became more determined. 'I'm telling you, _she's alive!_ I don't know how you can't see it, but I can!' He put his hand over her mouth, then to her neck. 'I can feel her breathing, and her pulse! Please, Mom, heal her!'

The idea of hope burned into Killian's heart, and he couldn't blame the boy for his denials. Regina's cheeks were tear streaked as well now. 'Henry, please -' She tried to pull him away but he resisted.

'No! I don't know what Peter did to you but he's messed with your heads somehow.' He looked desperate now, and pulled Regina to her knees next to Emma. 'You said her heart was ripped out.' Killian flinched at the casualness of the words. 'Well I can feel her pulse. See if her heart's still in her chest.'

Regina stared back at him, aghast. 'Henry -'

'_Please!' _he begged.

'Regina, please,' Neal said quietly from behind them. 'Just so he'll know.'

Regina and Neal looked at each other for a few seconds before Regina turned back to Henry, then nodded slowly. Killian gripped Emma's hand tighter as she hovered her hand over Emma's chest, hesitating.

He couldn't watch.

Even though she was dead, even though it wouldn't matter, that she wouldn't feel it, he squeezed his eyes shut as Regina plunged her hand into Emma's chest.

Although he hadn't let himself believe any different, he still felt his own heart sink when Regina sighed. 'There's no heart there, Henry,' she said with defeat.

Killian opened his eyes, preparing himself for the lost look on Henry's face, surprised to see that his determination hadn't faded. 'Try it again,' Henry said, grabbing Regina's free hand with his left hand and Emma's other hand with his right.

'Just leave her in peace,' Killian pleaded, his voice breaking. He just wanted to settle into a nothingness, to find enough rum to drink himself into oblivion.

Henry's eyes caught his and held them. 'No,' he said firmly, and Regina thrust her hand back into Emma's chest.

He didn't have time to look away. He was about to turn, feeling his stomach heave, when he caught the look of bewilderment on Regina's face. 'It's there,' she breathed, astonished.

Killian leaned forward, his eyes darting between Regina and Emma. Emma still looked as dead as she had since she'd fallen to the ground, but Regina looked so surprised... 'Regina,' he began warningly.

'I can feel her heart, Hook. She looks no better to me now than before, but I can feel her heart. It's weak, so she may be close to death anyway, but right now _she is alive._'

She was alive.

_She was alive._

'This world runs on belief,' Henry said, drawing both Regina and Killian's attention back to him. He held up his and Regina's entwined hands. 'And I'm -'

'The Truest Believer,' Killian whispered. He was vaguely aware that the others had crowded back around them, but focused solely on the people in front of him. 'Regina, heal her.'

'I can't -'

'Regina!' he roared, not caring when she flinched slightly.

'I don't have enough magic!' she yelled back at him, pulling her hand out of Emma's chest. His breath caught for a second before he could acknowledge that there was no heart in her grip. 'I used too much of it fighting the Lost Boys, and even if I used all I had left and sacrificed myself, it still wouldn't be enough.'

Before Killian had a chance to mourn the loss of hope once again, Rumpelstiltskin appeared over Regina's shoulder. 'Make room,' he snapped, pulled Regina out of the way. Killian watched him warily as he knelt down in her spot. 'There's a chance. It's not only the spell he's put her under, but the spell that's affecting us. It's going to take a lot of magic, and a lot of belief.' He felt at Emma's neck, at her forehead, before pressing his hand against her chest. 'I have enough magic, but I need your belief,' he said to Henry.

Henry looked down at his mother with wide eyes as the responsibility settled on his shoulders. Without letting go of Emma's hand, Killian reached across and raised Henry's face much like he had before when he'd freed him. 'Please, Henry,' he begged, needing to find enough hope in the boy's eyes to see it through.

It was more hesitant now, but it was there. 'I believe,' he said firmly. 'I can see that she's alive. I believe in her, and I believe in you, Mr Gold,' he added, turning to look at Rumpelstiltskin.

They all held their breaths as a golden light spread out from Rumpelstiltskin's hand, rolling slowly across Emma's body until her skin appeared to glow. 'Believe harder, kid,' Rumpelstiltskin muttered.

Henry's face scrunched up. 'I am.'

Rumpelstiltskin raised his eyes to Killian's. 'You. Your doubt is stopping this.'

He shook his head helplessly. 'I can't -'

'You can. Believe in your happy ending, Killian Jones.'

Killian started. _How did he remember that name?_ Trying to push away thoughts of deception, he looked back down to Emma. His happy ending? He truly thought that he might finally have a chance at that, a second chance at happiness, and he'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't screw it up this time, that he'd cherish her and love her and not let any harm come to her. And how well had that gone? All he'd wanted to do was get her son back for her, and he'd succeeded, but it had been too late.

His misery was almost too strong. He tried to push the doubts away, filling them with the what ifs, with the good memories, with everything that he'd thought would be too good to be true. The first time she'd kissed him, and the times after that, how she'd eased his doubts and guilt after they'd found out Neal was alive. How hopeful he'd felt when she'd told him that her heart couldn't be taken - which he now realized was the truth, if Pan had tricked them after all.

_But when we get home..._

_I'll be waiting._

And his hopes for the future. The two of them, and Henry. A home. Happiness. Children? Gods, he wanted to pretend that he didn't know how much he'd wanted this, but he did, damn it, after all those years being angry and bitter and searching for darkness, he'd wanted nothing more than the brilliant spark of life that she'd flared in him, had given his days to lighting a similar spark of happiness in her eyes, even during their grim search for her son.

And he wasn't ready to give up on that, not yet. He wasn't ready to let her go.

Startled cries erupted around him and his eyes flew open, a low cry escaping his throat as green eyes stared back at him.

Emma blinked up at him in confusion, then looked around. 'Henry? Henry!' Scrambling to sit up, she flung her arms around her son, who was grinning and crying and holding her back just as tightly. Killian stared at the back of her head in shock. He knew that the right thing to do was to give her time with her son, but he'd lost all restraint when he'd seen her heart taken, and none of it had returned now. Throwing himself forward, he wrapped his arms tightly around both Emma and Henry, burying his face in her hair, needing to feel as much of her as he could. He felt so overwhelmed that he could feel himself trembling. _She was alive._

He found Rumpelstiltskin watching them carefully, having been pushed back when Emma had sat up. Killian held his gaze determinedly, needing him to read the sincerity that he felt. 'Thank you,' he said firmly, knowing that no words would ever be enough.

Rumpelstiltskin just nodded, but Emma away from him a little. 'For what? What happened? What - Why are you covered in blood?' Letting go of Henry, she turned around to inspect him fully, clutching at his arm, gasping when she lifted his shirt and saw the larger gash at his ribs. 'What the hell happened? Why hasn't anyone healed you?'

Now that he knew she was all right, the pain of his injuries came flooding back at once, making him wince, but he tried to push it away. He didn't care about anything else but looking at her, touching her, knowing she was real. And safe. 'It doesn't matter. They can't heal me for now, I'll have to make do with bandages.'

'Why can't they heal you?' She looked around at the others and frowned. 'Why is everyone look like they've been crying? And why the hell are you grinning at me like that?'

He couldn't help it, he laughed. He felt so full that he couldn't hold it in any longer, and he didn't want to any more even if he could. 'I know there's more to sort out, that we still have to figure out a way home and that we agreed to wait until then, but I don't want to live another minute without you knowing just how much I love you. Nothing has mattered as much to me as you do for a very long time, and I couldn't let you go without you knowing that. I love you, Emma.'

Her face softened and she reached a hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned into her touch, almost unable to cope with how good it felt to have her warm skin against his. 'I know,' she said softly. 'Killian, I love you, too.' A frown creased her brow again. 'What do you mean you couldn't let me go? What happened?'

The look of horror on Emma's face grew more and more pronounced as they filled her in. Killian had to let her go long enough to hug and cry a little with her parents, and she barely let go of Henry at all. Mary Margaret convinced him to let her clean and bandage his wounds, but he never let Emma out of his sight. When they finally told her about how Rumpelstiltskin had healed her, she looked back to Killian. 'What happens now, then?'

'I should have enough magic back by tomorrow to repair the Jolly Roger,' Regina offered.

Killian shared Emma's excited smile. 'And then we find our way home.'

**AN: At least it had a happy ending? Right?**

**When I first had this idea I just wanted to write about Killian killing Pan if he killed Emma, and I was going to make him kill her for real, but I kinda really liked the idea I had with Henry.**

**Please let me know what you think, it's been ages since I've written anything along these lines and I don't think I've posted anything like it to be read before. I'll repay you with loves and hugs!**


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